The Rain in our Souls
by 1caiser
Summary: Laughing Coffin served two purposes for Kai: a vengeance, and a home. But still, his deeds are left forfeit. Permanently branded an orange player, he could do whatever he wished. When opportunity of redemption greets him, Laughing Coffin becomes nothing but a heaviness that is all but past. Rewrite for "Truth and Ideals".
1. Chapter 1

"Are you, not more, proficient?"

A person wearing a skull-like mask with red eyepieces mercilessly reminded me amidst a congregation of tattered hoods and cloaks. All was still on this grassy plain, save the fluttering of the death gods' garments and the shower of fleeting blue shards. Aside from that lonely wind, my ears could only hear this man's fragmented speech pattern.

"Are you, not more, intelligent?"

The blue shards originated from the same source—the depletion of the durability of an object. To an outsider at this moment, a boss monster may have just been defeated, but everyone in this plain knew the events that had transpired on this New Year's morning.

"Are you, not more, competent, than, any of them?"

"That is all, XaXa."

Another man, taller than his companion, set a hand on his companion's shoulder. XaXa stopped talking and withdrew, and this taller individual assumed the podium.

"Of course, you know the answer to those questions. We observed you, we overheard those conversations, and... wondered why you still engaged with such undesirables."

And before I could reply, the man, possibly of Hispanic descent, continued to indulge me with his eloquence.

"You sought longing. You sought for a place where people would acknowledge you." He raised his hand into the air, as if grasping something unseen. "Beta Testers are not easily accepted... but among our ranks, they are our greatest assets." He lowered the hand, but not to his side, but in front of me, as if presenting a gift.

"Kai... join us—"

And the members of Laughing Coffin chimed in: "to create a utopia for only what is correct... to stow the false into the coffins of their rebelliousness... to laugh at their incompetence..."

My hand slowly raised, compelled by an unknown emotion, and grasped this man's hand. From underneath his hood, PoH's lips curled into a satisfied smile, and finished the mantra:

"This is the statement of «Laughing Coffin»."

* * *

><p>So now, go forth my followers... revel in the remains of your adversaries; the ones who hated you, used you, despised you. For, in the end, they will die by the hands of Kayaba Akihiko, our imprisoner. So enjoy this game, while it still lasts—dazzle our audience with your untamed skill...<p>

«It's showtime.»

* * *

><p><strong>The Rain in Our Souls<strong>

**Chapter 1**

**Disclaimer: **

**Any elements pertaining to «Sword Art Online» belong to Kawahara Reki. **

**All original content belongs to me.**

* * *

><p>[Targets moving toward the southeast. Move twenty meters to the west. T minus 30 seconds until contact.]<p>

I reviewed this message of fragments twice. Feeling that there was no awkwardness in my diction, I tapped the send button. This message channel was relayed to all of the members in this current party. I glanced at my upper-left, which displayed my name, level, and HP.

_Kai. 90. 17715/17715._

Beneath that were smaller HP bars, with my party members' names written underneath. _Mori, Seraph, Tetra. _They had similar levels than me; Seraph's was the lowest.

I glanced back at the map. Within the seven seconds that passed, my party members finished positioning themselves near the path that our targets were to walk across. There was no stopping those targets' deaths now. Mori had been trigger-happy for the past three weeks, after solo killing three players sleeping out in the field.

Then, there was Tetra, one of the newer members, who had committed her first solo kills just two days ago and a week after her induction. She was the most talented of the group, and rumors within Laughing Coffin prophesied that she may become an executive in due time.

I actually was offered that position, not too long before Tetra joined. I declined.

[Let them have it.]

My map exploded into action, as the blue dots of my party clashed with the green dots of the players I had singled out; revealed by my maxed «Searching» skill. One by one, those green dots vanished from the map, and I heard the distant cries of agony, followed by the dull thud of in-game death.

A certain gravity pulled down at my heart.

No—these players deserved this. This was my karma to them—for their ill treatment towards me, towards the beta testers... For if I mingled with them and they discover my beta tester status, they would surely shun me. I tasted little of friendship, having walked the path of a «solo player», but always hoped there will be others who would acknowledge me.

Even on the 47th Floor, when I dealt the «Last Attack» on that boss, over eight months ago, there were few congratulations to pass around, since I was a no-name solo player. «Last Attacks» and «Town Openings» were considered the greatest of achievements within the Clearing Group, and seeing this congratulation having gone to rest like that, I settled with the first people to reach out to me; a small guild that I later discovered to have sought me out because I was a Beta Tester—only because I was a Beta Tester.

And that led me here—to destroy those who desired me because of the information and utility I could provide, and only those attributes, and those who shunned me because of a psychological endeavor to protect myself during the beginning of this «death game»... like all other Beta Testers.

And so it was. I couldn't, wouldn't settle with being a tool.

Another realization came into being. So how was this current «activity»different than what I was forced to do then?

[bak to hq, head-san?] The contorted internet short-hand was from Seraph. They had stowed the loot of the dead players into their inventories, and we would distribute the items once we returned to the headquarters on the 5th Floor, deep inside the Labyrinth. I wished to return, not because I had first picks on the loot, but because I needed to meet with a certain information broker.

_How has _he_ managed to survive with all this hate?_


	2. Chapter 2

**The Rain in Our Souls**

**Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer: **

**Any elements pertaining to «Sword Art Online» belong to Kawahara Reki. **

**All original content belongs to me.**

* * *

><p>During my time in Laughing Coffin, I committed a total of two murders.<p>

That memory remained unforgotten. Those two players had the potential to become part of the Clearing Group. Bright-eyed, charming, determined... at one point, I could have even considered them brothers. They were the closest people I had ever met, as my time as an infiltrator in Laughing Coffin.

«Infiltrators» maintained a high combat status, and frequently farmed for experience points, «EXP», and spent very little time within guild maneuvers, and rather stuck with their infiltrated one. However, they scouted players and informed the killers of their findings: their skills, combat techniques, how they reacted to ambushes, and sometimes their quirks. The last was the most important—if the killers knew where to spot that quirk on the field, they would know when to go aggressively or passively... and wait for the right chance to paralyze them.

They played on terrorizing the player, making them squirm in fear before torturing and finally killing them. They lived on the thrill of the hunt.

I differed from the lot of them. While the other infiltrators were part of a larger guild, I was left to my own devices for scouting, since I was already known as a solo player and many of the clearing guilds despised Beta Testers.

As for those these two individuals, I lured them into a near Monster-PK, but saved them from my own scheme. This kind of infiltration was the most difficult, as the players you met and forged trust with would soon depart from this world. During my time, I spent my time well away from Laughing Coffin, inside the towns with these individuals. We hunted together, ate together... laughed together. I considered on leaving Laughing Coffin for these two people. Then, on one night, my utopia turned upside-down.

And I turned «orange» that night, out of self-defense, and in rage struck the first clean blow. Had I allowed them to attack me first, I would still be green... but, the grounds on which they attacked was not because of my affiliation with Laughing Coffin, but because I slipped the detail of a Beta Tester...

I went rampant, with mixed feelings swirling inside me as I struck them down with my sword.

Rage, that they strike because of a background that didn't matter. Sadness, that I didn't want to fight. Anxiety, that they would die if they fought. Obligation, for I would eventually die if I did not protect myself.

Rage and obligation overcame correct conduct, and I was swallowed as this lonely observer.

* * *

><p>The four of us teleported, or rather tried to teleport, to «Dorschia», the main city of the 5th Floor. I say <em>tried<em> because our «orange Color Cursors» prevented us from entering the city domain, or, as it is dubbed by the system, the «Area». The Area forbids any health drop whatsoever, including existing «DoT», damage over time, effects and other ailments. Even a purple barrier to protect a player from any assailants.

I mention this because orange players could then only resort to the remaining two options, of three, of ascending and descending the hundred floors of Aincrad, the iron castle in the sky in which «Sword Art Online»'s stage was set. The first, which is the most preferred way of transport, utilized the «Teleport Gates» in each main city on each floor. But, such Gates only existed inside those main cities, wherein orange players are forbidden to enter because of the crimes they have committed.

Thus, it came down to two options: the use of a «crystal» and descending through every Labyrinth in Aincrad. The former included use of the «Teleport Crystal» and its rarer counterpart, the «Corridor Crystal». The Teleport Crystal transferred its caller to the designated main city's Teleport Gate, or in the orange player's case, outside the town's gate that is closest to the Gate itself. Then the Corridor Crystal, which serves as an activate-able portal. One would first mark a location, and then call the Crystal to open its Corridor, and can return to that previous marked location. But, the odds of obtaining a Corridor Crystal is quite low, and I've yet to hear that NPC shops sold such an item.

And so, Laughing Coffin had three ways to gather those treasured Teleport Crystals: hunt monsters, rely on the few «green members», and kill other players for them.

With the previous statement, there was no way that the four of us—Mori, Seraph, Tetra, and I—would willingly descend through thirty floors of Aincrad. Even with the sufficient map data, the trek would take at least a week to travel back home, with very few breaks in between.

I turned around, making sure that my party was accounted for. Counting three armor sets and their weapons, I turned heel and looked toward the stone pillar that jutted out of the ground and into the base of the roof, some hundred or so meters above our heads.

"That was my last Teleport Crystal," Seraph whined. The fourteen-year old, or so, brought out his remaining crystals; an Antidote and two Healing Crystals. "At least there were quite a few in what we looted! Then Four-chan had to take everything, with all that flair. She—"

"Whatever," I stated, interrupting Tetra from retaliating at the nickname.

"—even said that 'Kai-senpai gets first picks!'" I shook my head with closed eyes while biting my lip, annoyed.

The 5th Floor took the format of an overgrown jungle, or rainforest. Thick vines hung from overhead branches, and dots of mock sunlight pockmarked the ground—the sun never actually shined upon Aincrad's floors, except during daybreak and twilight. But those spots of sunshine were indicators for the dangers of the 5th Floor undergrowth; pitfalls, hidden dart traps, and vine snares. The pitfalls were very easy to spot, but if anyone was careless enough to walk into one of them, he would suffer massive piercing DoT until he was freed or dead. The others were a standard «get hit and get poisoned» trap and a «suffer from fall damage when freed» trap.

All were easily detectable with the «Searching» skill—the respective trap would be highlighted in red, and then yellow around any activation area. The pitfall and dart traps required a sidestep, as their mechanisms were more or less hidden, but my beta tester experience allowed me to safely disarm the snare traps with a swing of my one-handed sword. The more serious beta testers—now appropriately dubbed «Beaters» by the community—had this knowledge ingrained as second nature.

After a twenty minute hike through the woods, the 5th Floor Labyrinth emerged from the undergrowth. The monsters that dwelled within were small-fry, easily killed with effortless strokes of my weapon. I ventured to the northwest corner of the Labyrinth's first floor; a secret corridor that led down into a hidden dungeon: Hasag Pass.

Hasag Pass was very different than any dungeon; instead of solid ground, the pathways floated and moved over a black chasm. None of us had any idea of what was down there, and didn't risk the two-minute death sentence of «falling in midair».

After a total of an hour of strolling, my party and I arrived back at the safe area in the deepest recesses of Hasag Pass. In this safe zone, furniture was set on numerous «Vendor's Carpets». Bookshelves and tables were placed here and there, and two other members noticed our presence from a pair of sofa armchairs. "Ah, Kai and his team are back," one of them said.

The four of us passed the duo, and retreated to a table, nestled within a ring of bookshelves. Tetra opened her menu and spread out the spoils upon the table. "We've definitely hit a Crystals jackpot," Mori said, stroking one of the Healing Crystals. "But the weapons though... they leave much to be desired..."

"Expected of equipment from Level 50s," I replied. "They're not too high on the spectrum, but they are sure to sell on auction on the lower levels. You just have to get a right price, and have patience." I organized the materialized loot into their different categories: the crystals, potions, other utilities, weapons and shields, and finally armors. The wooden table carried a _decent_ find from Level 50 players.

"We should get every chance with Kai," Seraph piped up. "He always chooses the best targets, and everything goes according to plan...!"

I reached out and grabbed the stash of Teleport Crystals, six in total, leaving two for each member. Then the Antidote Crystals, three total, leaving one each for the members. However, I took every one of the Healing Crystals, and a cloak of dark blue with black trim. Coincidentally, that cloak matched the leather coat I wore now; a player-made item, «Lazuline Coat».

And I turned my back on my team, leaving them to ravage the equipment they savored, so they could break them down into components and increase their weapons' stings and their lust for carnage. Their fates no longer mattered to me. Their devices could no longer fulfill what would bring me pleasure...

I breathed in a large gulp of night air, and stared up at the bottom of the 6th Floor, which was decorated with a rainbow colored spider-web.

... For this lackluster sky... carried naught but dying stars.

* * *

><p>Upon the utterance of the «Teleport» command, my avatar manifested outside the gates of my destination, rather than on the Teleport Gate within the city. The system message, again notifying me of my orange brand, appeared before my figure.<p>

_Your avatar is currently marked as «orange». You are unable to enter the «Area». Instead, you have been teleported outside of the «Area», closest to the target you had wished to teleport to._

Swiping away the message for the umpteenth time, I turned due east, until I approached a railing. There, a player sat upon a tree's branch, staring into the black expanse. I approached that railing and crossed my arms on it, and leaned forward to set my head upon my arms. "The info was correct," I said lazily. "Here's that bonus I talked about." I materialized a pouch of currency, and tossed it to the player in the tree.

"How generouS." The player's strange nasal inflection returned. "Few of my others give me a bonus on top of the fees I chargE." The player jumped down beside me, and stood in strained silence before leaning her back on the railing beside me. "Are you thinking of continuing that scouting businesS?"

"One-thousand Cor," I said, my face loosening into a smile.

"Very funny KaI. You were pretty stormy before I made that remarK."

"It's just that you're so easy to tease, Argo." Argo gave me a punch on the arm, and it was enough to lower my HP by two points. It was a good thing I was orange; had I been green, the system would have designated her as orange for three hours. But the only reason why she hit me so hard with because I was perhaps her only client that she could injure freely, and without reprimand. I did say that I would protect myself if she were to brandish her claws, hit me if I was below 90% of my maximum HP, or draw poisons of any kind.

"...were you really jokinG? I'm actually willing to pay now."

My contentment disappeared, and my face returned to its scary, serious complexion once again.

"Why are you asking?"

"Information comes and goeS," Argo replied. "There was a piece of dialogue that intrigued me, and I would be willing to share if you answer correctlY."

"It's no longer working out. People have to accept you because you're an information broker, and they can still receive services from you. But me... I was wanted because of my combat prowess and my level advantage...

"On a side note, I wish to buy information on a player."

"Prices vary from player to playeR. I'll provide what I can, thougH."

"Tell me about «Kirito». General player info."

Argo didn't speak for several seconds. "Seven... no, five-thousand CoR."

I produced the money, and Argo handed me a few statistics, scrawled on a memo sheet:

[Updated as of August 17, 2024

Kirito, Status: Alive

Level: 92

Player Home Location: (redacted), 50th Floor

Guild: None]

Kirito was the most infamous of Beta Testers, having created a denomination between the "general player from the Beta" and the "information-hoarding Beaters". It was a portmanteau of the words «Beta Tester» and «cheater»; a denomination that both Argo and I fell in. But given Argo's occupation, she was to be spared from such discrimination.

"Do you still want an answer about my scouting business?"

"Aside from the fact that those players have perished nearly a half-hour agO... I doubt I'll be passing around information of players' plans in the futurE. Anyways, how about you—the intriguing topic of a possible «Rank 5 criminal status removal quesT»?"

"Wha-what?" I blinked my eyes and I retreated from the railing, and stared at the hooded girl standing about a meter before me.

"In a dungeon, there is an NPC that gives the weekly quest «Lost ApparatuS». The quest gives a Cor reward based on how quickly you can retrieve the itemS... ah, it doesn't matter, but completing the quest as an «orange» player changes the NPC's end quest dialogue into something about 'death creeping behind him' while the player was gonE."

Argo kept silent for a while to allow me to digest this information. Could it be that the NPC knew where the hideout of Laughing Coffin was? And also, didn't NPCs respawn after the passing of twenty-four hours?

"NPCs do respawn after twenty-four hourS," Argo reassured, as if reading my mind, "I tried it myselF. But the dialogue string remains, when the quest is completed by an orange playeR."

"...Tell me what the Floor number is."

"Fifty-fouR," Argo said, and I prepared my money pouch. I saw that she had materialized a rolled up scroll; a «map data» item, and set it on the railing. "No, the NPC is in the Labyrinth on the 54th FlooR. As for why I am telling you this for free, I deduced you wished to return to «green» statuS. I can empathize, even if I'm a heartless information-hoarding raT. Think of it as the fruit of your extra paymenT."

«Argo the Rat» snickered a little, and began walking towards the city. "...but, whether you decide to eat or toss that fruit, I leave to yoU."

The information broker disappeared through the forest, and I was left alone with silence.

And in the night sky where Aincrad soared, a shooting star slashed through the monotonous black.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Rain in Our Souls**

**Chapter 3**

**Disclaimer: **

**Any elements pertaining to «Sword Art Online» belong to Kawahara Reki. **

**All original content belongs to me.**

* * *

><p>July 24, 2024.<p>

That was the date which I, in my soul, renounced Laughing Coffin. With one of the nine Teleport Crystals in my pouch, I teleported to the 54th Floor—its main city was known as «Serras».

The town was an easily breathable area, considering that the two floors above it—the 55th and 56th Floors—were home to the headquarters of the Knights of the Blood and the Divine Dragon Alliance, respectively. The traffic would be directed towards those two towns. Also, the 54th Floor wasn't known for its dungeons; the lower levelled players would prefer the «Ant Hill» on the 49th Floor, or perhaps even the «Forest of Wandering» on the 35th Floor to fulfill their experience point goals.

The Labyrinth raid city of «Achr » was a thirty-minute walk from Serras, and an additional fifteen minutes brought the Labyrinth's entrance into sight. I was actually part of the Clearing group at this time, with my two friends accompanying me in the Clearing. I didn't get the «Last Attack» on this Floor Boss though, but the Last Attack spoils from the 47th Floor boss still journeyed with me to this day—my beloved One-Handed Straight Sword «Jemmenai». Reminiscent of the flower garden floor, the claymore had a pink-over-purple design, but the blade was fortunately a bright white. Before the fall of my two friends, I had successfully upgraded its weapon parameters thirty-five times.

This same blade guided me through the 54th Floor Labyrinth, to its 13th level. According to Argo's information, which I had safely stored into a memo item, the NPC was located behind a secret door at the Labyrinth's 13th level, in the northeastern quadrant. I arrived at my destination with no trouble, but apprehension finally caught up to me. No, I wasn't worried about the gathering quest, «Lost Apparatus», an item search quest for five pieces of research equipment, but rather of the NPC's reaction. From a player's point of view, there was no way of discerning a «Rank 3 orange player» from a «Rank 5 orange player».

As for an NPC, having a different script, for when green and orange players complete the quest, is evidence enough that my Rank 5 Criminal Status would be acknowledged once I probably entered his vicinity.

Then, for carpe diem's sake, I pressed the palm of my hand against the runes on the secret door. Those intricate markings gleamed on contact, and that section of wall first sank inward and then slid into the floor. After the animation, it was as if the runed section of wall never existed.

I took a deliberate step forward.

A plump man in khakis and spectacles jumped at the sight of me, and then jumped behind me while babbling about something moving in the shadows—none of this happened. The room was still save for a drafty breeze, even though the room was completely sealed off from the inside.

And turning my head ever so slightly to my left—behold the researcher NPC, hanging in the air nearly four feet off the ground, stiff and never to move again. A spike that was jammed inside the stone, supporting a thick rope that firmly noosed around the said NPC's neck. His face was a contorted terror; pupils the size of sand grains, and his mouth hanging loose, and the rest of his body seemed like he was a puppet with its strings snipped. His portfolio lay on the stone floor, its contents sprawled out like a carpet.

«Too long; didn't read»: the NPC was _murdered._

* * *

><p>If anything, I shouldn't be surprised if an NPC was killed. Besides, NPCs weren't player entities, and had no lives to lose. Besides, they were the only entities that would respawn, whereas Player Characters would be never heard from again.<p>

I knew this full well. A majority of beta testers experienced that first-hand.

But no one in SAO had ever looked into the visage of a cadaver. Usually, any entity died, breaking into those blue fragments, with a complexion of lost hope, terror, or intense pain. They were swiftly gone, and vanished without leaving any trace.

But here, the NPC was preserved.

* * *

><p>I tore my eyes away from the NPC's corpse, feigning the repulsion of my stomach. Of course, nothing would come out, except for the extreme discomfort of disgorgement. And as I straightened my body, Argo's words from the night before plunged into my memory:<p>

_"...into something about 'death creeping behind him' while the player was gonE."_

My right hand deftly hovered over the set of «Paralysis Throwing Picks» at my belt, and my eyes darted about the room. Several seconds passed, and I finally lay eyes on the portfolio. Finally, I found the golden «!» above it. Surprised, I walked over to the fallen messenger bag, for this was the first instance that an _object_ was selected as a quest initiator.

I warily removed my hand from my sword and tapped against the portfolio. A system message appeared before me:

_Would you like to begin: «To Catch a Killer?_

This was definitely not the searching quest «Lost Apparatus», probably because I tapped the messenger bag as opposed to speaking to the NPC. But, a wave of idiocy overcame me, for proposing that I would receive some output from a deceased being. Then, readdressing the system message, I tapped the «O» for _accept_, and the NPC's body was miraculously released from the noose. The sudden air current from the plump body's descent shuffled the papers, and a message written in red appeared over a diagram about the Labyrinth's natural versus synthetic formations:

_"We, are vengeance. For we had a name once, but we are now called something else. None can evade us, for we can be anywhere. Know our pain, and know our truth... and know that your death has been ordained._

As I walked out of that hidden room with my hand clenched around a paper marked with blood and the image of a spiderweb, the sound of death permeated through the Labyrinth; a sound like a hammer's head falling upon glass.

* * *

><p>Once I exited the Labyrinth, I opened my Quest sub-menu, and cycled through the full list of quests. Every quest that was inside the information brokers' database; those that I have completed, those still in progress, and those still yet to be initiated were displayed in the small rectangle before me. After setting the view option to «most recent», I tapped the new «To Catch a Killer» quest and looked for a tracking option. Tapping that tracking option, my «Tracking» sub-skill activated, and my map produced an arrow that pointed in the direction of Serras. I frowned, for if the NPC was within the city, I would be discouraged to leave the quest in transit.<p>

Still gripping the note with a death threat scrawled on it, I decided that my next step could not be within the Area. What's the point in creating such a quest for an orange player, especially one with a «Rank 5 Criminal Status»?

My legs paved the way to the eastern entrance of Serras, where I noticed that my map was now blinking at a yellow arrowhead; the indicator of an NPC. That NPC was a «gatekeeper» for the town of Serras—and among the strongest of NPCs that a player could face. These NPCs had a very limited roam radius, and players could easily outrun them. However, they could only attack players, and never monsters. Monsters could never aggro gatekeepers, and the opposite was also true—monsters' roam radius never overlapped with those of the gatekeepers.

These «gatekeepers» were created for the sake of driving away orange players from the Area. They targeted entities marked with an orange cursor, and only the orange cursor.

I took a deep breath, _suu_, and approached the gatekeeper. Sure enough, above his yellow Color Cursor and denomination of «Serras East Gatekeeper», a golden «!» floated above his head. His silver chainmail shined in the afternoon sun, but its glare was reduced to an aesthetic gradient. His head turned as I walked inside its aggro radius, and three more steps closer provoked him into an aggressive stance.

I stopped. Three steps into a gatekeeper's aggro radius was the range where the NPC would start charging at the orange player and start dealing percent-true-damage on its target. The fact that I was not being confronted meant that this quest interfered with the system's original protocol. Swallowing the meager amount of saliva in my mouth, I raised my hands in an «I surrender» pose, making sure that the researcher NPC's vandalized note was in sight. With my maxed «Searching» skill, I noticed a brief twitch in the guard's face as his eyes trailed towards my raised left hand.

"On whose behalf do you approach the district of Serras, bountied traveler?" the NPC enunciated in the distinct British accent of a thirty-to-forty year-old.

"The murdered ruins expert inside the Labyrinth towards the east," I said. "His killer left behind a high-profile message." Most of the dialogue I spoke wasn't required for the quest to continue, but I guess this game influenced most of the player base to assume something of a role-playing persona. «Sword Art Online» _was_ categorized as an RPG, so such dialogue seemed appropriate.

The gatekeeper clicked his tongue, and above the gate rose three «archer» class gatekeepers. Bows and arrows did not exist in SAO, but I guess that rumor was now limited to the fact that «only players do not have access to bows and their derivatives». I looked around, and noticed a hooded character preparing a «Screenshot Camera Crystal». I noticed that the player, marked by the green Color Cursor above his head, shot me the «thumbs-up» gesture. Argo... so, _her_ head.

Returning my attention to the gatekeepers, the bowmen nocked their arrows and aimed at my person, while the spearman approached me with a sure hand on his weapon. He held out his left palm, and I slowly transferred the note into his grip. His face became stone as he unfurled the parchment and read over the somewhat legible handwriting, and finally remarked at the spiderweb insignia.

"It does not appear you are lying," the spearman said, "but how can I trust you that neither you nor a possible accomplice created this note for the sake of usurpation?"

"You can't," I said, giving him a friendly smirk. "I am a criminal, as you know. But, I have my motives, and I bear wishes to bury my past actions."

"I'll take your word for now..." the spearman said, turning around. "I shall take you to the Captain of the Guard... move along now." The «!» pulsed, and changed into a phrase: «Follow».

Follow him... Wait, then that means...!

The NPC clicked his tongue twice in succession, and the bowmen withdrew their arms and ducked behind the crenelations once again. He turned his head, and bellowed, "Step on it!"

I quickly composed myself and followed after the NPC guard, hesitating at the «AREA» barrier. I took a step through the marked point, and a slight rippling effect showed I had entered the safe zone. The message «Inner Area» appeared before my eyes. I stared up at that message for quite some time, until I was interrupted by a gruff British reprimand. "We don't have forever," the gatekeeper said. "I must return to my post."

I looked back, and then noted Argo, who was frozen stiff and perpetually shifted her gaze at me and the orange cursor above me head. I heard a whisper, _sonna bakana—that's impossible. _My thoughts exactly.

As I trod after the guard, I finally realized how populous the 54th Floor was. There were several tens of players roaming the streets, and a grand majority of them caught sight of my orange player status. Almost immediately, I was struck senseless by their underlying conversations, picked up by my «Straining» skill, which was at a proficiency of Level 704.

"_That... is an orange cursor, isn't it?"_

"_...Definitely not yellow..."_

"_An orange player inside the Area...!"_

"_Apocalypse...?!"_

"_...No... we are no longer safe from them...!"_

The brand of "orange player" and "player-killer" entered my ears and piled around my brain. Half-consciously, I felt my right hand drift to Jemmenai, until I saw that the NPC gatekeeper was now speaking, though I could not hear his voice over the din of the players. Four guardsmen approached the gatekeeper, and surrounded me as if I were a high-ranking official's child being escorted to school or some public place. The gatekeeper then approached me, and firmly gripped at my right hand. I could hear him speak now.

"Do not draw the sword. The city's guardsmen will deflect any harm that comes your way. If you draw your weapon here, I can no longer guarantee your safety."

Behind grit teeth, I said, "Then... please excuse me... for a while..." I pulled my hand away out of his grip and accessed my main menu. With shaking hands, I navigated to my Skills list, and unequipped the «Straining» skill, and the whispers immediately stopped. Then after a few composing breaths, I said, "...Let us continue..."

The gatekeeper NPC nodded, and then nodded to his subordinates, and began escorting me to the Serras Captain of the Guard. Through the gaps in between the soldiers, the players continued their whispers, their gestures. I was powerless to stop them, and if I didn't act accordingly, I would probably be struck down at a moment's notice.

Powerless. My fate was in the hands of a system.

My inner turmoil passed unnoticed as my escorts approached the NPC guardhouse. The interior of the building was cramped with bookshelves and smelled of sweat. The guard navigated through the corridors into an office room, where another NPC guard, outfitted with a cape and a two-handed sword, stood behind a desk. He seemed to be taking a break from going through legal documents or of the like. The gatekeeper approached the captain and presented the note on his desk. "There's been a murder in the Labyrinth. A bountied traveler came across the corpse, and retrieved this high-profile note."

The Captain of the Guard slowly turned his head, his eyes scanning my person. His eyes came up and stared into mine, and opened the mouth under the bushy mustache of his. "A wanted traveler who has willingly turned himself in, and is now the informant of a murder within a near-uncharted area. Tell me, what is your motive for such a task?"

"First off, I have no idea that a bounty was placed on my head," I confessed. Perhaps it was the NPC term for «orange player», because these NPCs lived as though Aincrad were their home, and knew nothing of SAO's mechanics. "Besides, I have garnered no meaning from doing such tasks. Regret... it was a waste of time."

"And a waste of talent," the NPC guard said. "You're one able traveler, and had used it for the wrong purposes. Ergo, you seek redemption, and have embarked on the task of apprehending this killer to seek that redemption. Is that so?"

"It is as you say, Captain." I straightened my body, and bent my body forward into a bow.

"This is one culprit we ourselves have been at hell with, and none of his previous notes have given us a lead." The Captain NPC shifted his eyesight to the gatekeeper, and gave his soldiers a nod, and they scurried off back to their posts. Then, turning to a file cabinet, he produced two more items, the cover of a hardback book, and a sample of cowhide. Both were embossed with the spiderweb insignia, and with a message written in blood. My body shuddered, and I gulped down the saliva that formed in my mouth.

"The killer, or _killers_ I should say, always refer themselves as 'we'. Enforcers like us have no idea why they refer to themselves thus. Of course, we know that we are unsure of their motives, and that 'Spiderweb' is a group of people or a maniac who thinks he is a conglomeration of identities. Sounds like a schizophrenic, if you get my meaning." The Captain returned the book cover and the cowhide, and then the researcher's notes, into the cabinet, and opened another drawer.

"I'm sure Spiderweb is keeping an eye on you, so I'm going to let you have something to keep the other districts' gatekeepers from attacking you on sight." The guard produced a small trinket—something reminiscent of a picture necklace—and took a red candlestick from a Chinese household shrine. In the background, a soldier with almond eyes and a goatee glanced at his superior, and made a disdained face. With a match, the Captain lit the wick, and dripped the red liquid inside the locket. Then, waving the flame out, he returned the candle to the shrine, and stamped the wax with a seal; a simple bird seal. I had seen that seal before. It was two years ago, on a tapestry inside a conference room.

Inside of Argus's headquarters.

It was the symbol for Aincrad.

"Just show this seal to any district gatekeeper you see," the Captain said, closing the class cover and handing the trinket to me. "They shall let you pass, and will not ask for any explanation."

I stared at this item, the «Locket of Radius», with an awe that I could compare to making a successful craft in the real world. This small item was my key back into society—the place where I could eat in restaurants, rather than black bread, every day, and sleep in an inn rather than on a haystack bed in a dungeon with the cries of forest trolls permeating the night...

I stowed the Locket of Radius inside my «quick-access pouch», among my crystals and healing items. I thanked the Captain and bowed once more before making my way out of the building.

Inhale...

The air had never tasted sweeter, having been cooped inside a sweatshop.

Exhale.

And as I exhaled that breath, a great weight was lifted from my shoulders, and I stared at the pillar that was the Labyrinth in the distant horizon.


	4. Chapter 4

****The Rain in Our Souls****

****Chapter 4****

****Disclaimer:****

****Any elements pertaining to «Sword Art Online» belong to Kawahara Reki.****

****All original content belongs to me.****

* * *

><p>6:00AM, the next morning.<p>

The dull buzzing of my alarm clock shoved me out of my sleep, and I tapped a notification button to the side of my heads-up display to silence it. The previous night, Argo had paid me a visit and we discussed the events that had transpired earlier that day: the researcher NPC and his death, the exchange with the gatekeeper, and the «Locket of Radius».

__"Absolutely none of this makes sensE," Argo said, shaking her head. "There should be absolutely no way an orange player could be allowed into the AreA. Even the «Karma Recovery Quest» for the Rank 4 oranges don't require that player to enter towns, as all of their contacts are posted in the fielD..."__

_"___What bothers me most is that researcher NPC," I said, crossing my arms and propping my legs on the table. "With that face he was making... it seemed ___very ___convincing that he was not going to respawn. Then, there's that cryptic message that was hidden under his papers."__

_"___That suspicion could be easily dealt witH," Argo assured. "I will have myself, or another broker, watch the post where that NPC was located, and see if he respawnS. Once I get an affirmative or negative on the NPC's respawn, I'll send you a PM." Her eyes drifted to the table, where lay the «Locket of Radius». "It must have something to do with that iteM..."__

_"___Hmm?"__

_"___The acceptance back into the AreA," said the information broker. "ApparentlY..." she rose from the bed and extended a hand toward the object, but was reprimanded by a purple system barrier and a motor response that mimicked as if that barrier were a bee's stinger. "...there's a binding effect that doesn't let other players touch iT. That being said, we probably can't appraise it unless you level up that skill yourselF."__

__Argo finally asked one question that I hesitated to answering. No matter how much I wanted to shrug off such an armor-piercing question, I couldn't bring myself to joke around with Cor.__

_"___I am going to keep this a secret, unless you let me spread iT. But please tell me, and tell me the trutH... are, you in any league with Laughing CoffiN...?"__

After that conversation, and after falling asleep until now—the time when I would be near the frontlines for my appointed experience grinding. Laughing Coffin designated various locations at various times when player population would be at its lowest, and we could easily group and kill any bystander if they happened to stumble upon us. I fell back upon the bed and lay there for five minutes before finally deciding to rise.

Perhaps I should leave Achr, and find a main city on the lower floors to lay low. My quest data had updated, but it turns out that the quest didn't have the linear route a normal quest would. The description only read: «Wait for further orders from the investigators». The «wait» command wasn't something I could persevere through; especially if that was what I had to do in order to reach my intended goals.

I donned the blue cloak with gray trim once again. The sky was still dark; the sun wouldn't be peeking through Aincrad for another hour minutes. That was more than enough time to enter the Teleport Gate in the plaza, transfer to a lower floor, and hide out in a dungeon or lodging outside of the Area. Maybe near «Urbus» on the 2nd Floor? Or even «Lobria», on the 4th Floor...

As I exited the inn, called the «Plymouth», my ears picked up a soft crunching sound. I warily turned around, and set my hand above my Throwing Picks. No, none of my defenses would help me here; the purple barriers of the Area would intercept any damage or status-inflicting means I could deal to the other green players. The only thing I could do is try to flee the scene, and use a Teleport Crystal when I was out of their default hearing range. I cursed myself for taking any «Flashbang Crystals» from tmy previous ploy.

The worst case scenario was that I ran into a battalion belonging to the «Big Three» guilds—the «Army»; known formally as the «Aincrad Liberation Force»; the «Knights of the Blood», and the «Divine Dragon Alliance». Of course, an encounter with the latter two was highly probable, as their headquarters were the next two floors up. I wagered that guild was notified of my presence within an Area last afternoon, while their scouts investigated me during the evening, and listened in on my and Argo's conversation. If that were the case, then I wouldn't have to explain myself as much...?

I stepped slowly along the dirt path, paving my way toward the plaza where the Teleport Gate stood. Aside from hearing the crunching of gravel a while ago, I couldn't feel the presence of any player. My «Searching» Skill picked no entities, except for the few NPC guards that roamed the city. I took a deep breath and made my way toward the Teleport Gate. Acting natural at this point, with such variables in place—mostly the presence of a Big Three guild—was nigh impossible.

My legs immediately froze, and my hands hovered over the Throwing Picks at my thigh as a sharp object pressed its tip against the back of my cloak.

The Area protected them.

I was forced to accept their terms, or finally have my name crossed out on that black stone tablet that silently monitored the players within this cursed game.

"I want you to take that hood off your head," a voice said. My mind's eye painted the face of a teenage or young-adult male with short hair and a heart-shaped face. I hadn't even three seconds to move, and I felt the blade leave my back and then something graze against my body. The stinging sensation directed my eyes to my HP bar, which had lowered about two percent.

"Did you hear what I said, _dear_ _murderer_?"

"You must have a high level in «Hiding» be able to sneak up someone with a «Searching» Skill at max level."

I slowly lowered the hood off my head, and my eyes darted forward at the sound of shuffling dirt. Two players' avatars manifested from within the darkness, pulling off a mantle from their shoulders. «Cloaks of Invisibility». That item was a rare drop from within the 22nd Floor Labyrinth, and a few sub-dungeons in the few floors above the 22nd. These two players, a tall male with short, slicked-back hair and a shorter blue-haired female, approached me with their arms at their side. Their armors' color scheme was unmistakably one of the Big Three, but I checked their Color Cursors—their HP bars—just to be sure.

"So... what does the «Divine Dragon Alliance» want to do with a nobody player like me?" I asked.

The female gave me a smile with closed eyes, but asking such a question in that suspicious tone caused my assailant to jab at my ankle, dropping my health for an additional one percent. I winced at the player behind me, and caused the other two DDA members to speak up.

"Chevie, put your sword back where it belongs," the fragile voice of the girl said. There was a short pause, which resulted in «Chevie» scoffing and the sound of the blade's retreat back into its sheath. This reluctant action made me realize that the girl was the group's superior, and I took a moment to take note of her.

Her blue bangs reached down around her face to her neck, though her hair extended farther down the back. She wore a silver breastplate over a sleeveless, white-over-blue combat dress that was secured by a golden belt at the waist, where it then flared out around her legs to the knee. Her arms were covered with black, elbow-length gloves. A two-handed assault spear was affixed to her back. If I would make a guess at her age, I would say at least 18, and at most 23. My own was the average of the numbers.

"Players notified us of the presence of an orange player within an Area," she said. "Never in the past has an orange player entered the Area, but you appear to be a special case. Something about a__Locket of Radius__, which allows the bearer to enter an Area, despite having an orange cursor. Also, a tidbit that is more interesting..."

"Let's skip the pleasantries and dispose of the «red»," my assailant called from behind. "Maybe if you listened to Lind this time, he'll likely consider you for promotion, considering this guy is in league with Laughing Coffin—we'd be heroes if that were the case." My head turned and I obtained a glance of his complexion from beneath the hood he wore—that underlying smile of his was an emotion I recognized all too well. In this case, I wasn't the only one.

"Ulrich-san, please return Chevie-__kun__ back to headquarters before he gets out of hand... __again__." The male with slicked-back hair stepped forward and seized his fellow guild member, with his warhammer in hand. Chevie's hood fell from its owner's face, revealing a blonde, bowl-cut male—he threw me a venomous glance as he passed me by. I broke eye-contact, and stared indignantly at the DDA sub-leader before me with my mouth half-open.

"Shall I report to the guild leader?" Ulrich asked in a deep, bold voice, whilst keeping a firm hand on Chevie's upper left arm.

"I shall report to Lind-san myself. Thank you for your concerns."

"You can't do this, __Selphie-sama__," Chevie retaliated. "He's a red, and you know what the _guild leader-sama _said about red players!" In that instant, Ulrich locked eyes with me as he turned the screaming individual away. Then, the sportsman's eyes glared deep into my own, as if threatening at my existence if his sub-leader were to be declared missing. Then, with the conceited Chevie in a headlock, Ulrich muttered "Let's go, you two-tonne hassle", and chanted the Teleport incantation to disappear in a tunnel of light toward the 56th Floor.

My temples twitched as the sub-leader, Selphie, then turned around and smiled apologetically. "It's players like him that degrade our supposed 'professional outlook'. If the members like him offered to show even a shred of modesty, the DDA wouldn't be called «The Orange Clearers»." The tender smile remained as she opened her blue eyes. "Please allow me to treat you to something—possibly a meal—on behalf of Chevie-kun's bad behavior." She bowed the __saikeirei__—the forty-five degree bow—and caused me to wonder what DDA's "modesty spectrum" was, or whether this girl's modesty was of the highest within her guild.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked abruptly. I must have been too strong with my voice, since she flinched and before hesitantly turning to face me. I tried my approach again, softening my voice, "Didn't the other member say something about your guild leader to deal with me, as in PK me? Or even at least send me to the «Black Iron Prison»?"

"Many players are going to circulate around. Even if you decline my offer of breakfast, at least follow me to the inn, or café, where we may converse in subtlety. Please understand."

Hesitation gripped my decisions in a choke-hold. I, deemed by the system as a convict, would likely be heckled at from all angles, perhaps even dived upon, if found in a public place. Of course, that would be if I were alone...

"If only you could hold back the droves of players off my back, I'll be more than willing to tell you what I can," I said half-heartedly. Selphie seemed quite pleased with herself, as she twirled around and began toward the inn where I had just lodged. The various buildings loomed overhead, and I expected players to come out anytime soon; it was nearing that time when players would venture out to hunt; either for monsters or for materials.

Selphie came to the two-story building that situated behind two marble-colored rocks. She opened one of the mahogany double doors open, and gestured me inside first. My courteousness kicked in and I reached for the door, holding it open. "Please, you first, _sub-leader_," I said. Selphie gave me a rejected look and she disappeared into the inn. I shook my head at myself as I trailed behind her, my thoughts repeating "I totally screwed up there".

A few groups of players had already assembled in the Plymouth's dining area, and their conversations dropped to whispers as Selphie approached the bartender while I moved toward a table near the back. With a HUD shortcut, I disabled the «Straining» skill, and the statements mentioning "DDA" and "orange players" disappeared. Had my cloak been trimmed with white, they may have been more forgiving and acknowledged me as a DDA member who had «barely crossed the line».

Selphie approached the table with a translucent window in front of her. After seating herself down, she changed the visibility setting to «public», and turned the window so I could see the contents. "Pick something from the menu. Consider this as my apology—Chevie is a real troublemaker."

"While I appreciate the offer, couldn't we have settled with us going our separate ways?" I asked.

"An orange player like you has nothing to do within an Area," Selphie said from behind the translucent window, her head resting on her intertwined fingers. "If it's about keeping a low profile, nobody will realize that you've gone."

That smug tone of hers implied something contrary.

I hesitantly broke eye contact to the menu, and settled with a chowder and finally submitting the menu. "Revenge... was much too sweet for my liking." I turned my gaze away. "A sweet tooth, I am not."

"You've been missing out on quite a few tastes if you've been only feasting on sweets for the past eight months," Selphie said. I became quite surprised when she followed up with food talk, and my eyes turned back at the smile that graced her face. "The DDA, ALF, and KoB are looking for a player, anyone , who could provide anything about LC." Pause. "Those Reds may have slowed down on their hunting activities, but some players are unwilling to leave the safety of the Area. They need to be assured that Laughing Coffin is not just disbanded but destroyed in order to willingly go out into the fields again. If that doesn't happen, this current Clearing Group doesn't have a next generation Clearing Group to continue in our stead."

After such an expansive reply, the NPC waiter had arrived with our respective orders. The bowl of creamy chowder was set in front of me, accompanied with a wooden soupspoon. Selphie had helped herself to a platter of noodles, while a bowl of broth was set in front of her left hand. Finally, after setting a few dinner rolls in the middle of us, the waiter courteously bowed and left. Of those four dinner rolls, I dipped two of those rolls into the chowder before devouring them.

Nearly three months have passed since my orange cursor, and during those three months, I was forced to eat the one-Cor black bread for every meal. Remembering those grueling times where I craved a taste other than the bland wheat, I savored the taste signals this system was sending to my brain.

That was all the platter of food was composed of—signals. The creamy texture of the chowder, the puffiness of the dinner rolls—both were only an illusion of sustenance while our real bodies were sustained through IV drips within various hospitals across Japan.

"Can I ask why you decided to defect from Laughing Coffin?"

I lowered the spoon, and I stared at the puddle of chowder that remained in the bowl before me. After a exhalation through my nose, I replied, "It became like a game that didn't seem fun anymore... that's what I would have said." I noticed Selphie was about to open that indignant mouth again, but fell silent as I uttered that ending statement. My attention returned to the food, and only then did I realize that I had ordered too small a portion.

I tapped the table two times and invoked the menu.

"To tell the truth, I'm quite uncomfortable dosing of this in such a public location. Still, this orange cursor of mine well provide the context of any eavesdroppers... but I wish to reserve information regarding the «LC» to a time a place which is more secure.

"This first meeting can be anything about me."

Basic internet etiquette involved the exclusion of personal life details. Especially in SAO, where a player could fail to recognize this game as their «current reality» because of that real-reality they had left behind...

From the menu, I settled on a serving of milk tea, which arrived as soon as the menu dissipated with my order. I brought the beverage to my mouth, scalding my tongue..

Selphie merely sighed. "Of everything I could ask, I already have." She rubbed the side of her neck with her palm. "Tonight, I'll send you a «PM» and we'll talk in private. In the meantime, report back to Laughing Coffin."

I sipped the milk tea again as Selphie rested her chin upon the back of her hands, watching me intently with her piercing blue orbs.

"What?" I demanded, setting down my cup in its saucer.

"It's a nice change of pace, that's all," Selphie said, turning her gaze away with a crown. "You don't reply with the __sama __tag that the DDA is so obsessed about. It relieves me quite a bit, you know."

I downed the last of the milk tea and set aside the tableware. "I too would be overwhelmed if I had some fifty people at my heels and calling me __sama__. Maybe that's why that Red guild seemed so promising..." I rose from the table, and strode toward the entrance.

As I passed Selphie, however, a felt a force tug me back toward the table. She was holding me by the waist strap of my long coat. "I do require your contact info... so I can tell you that time and place _without_ first having to track you down."

If I recall correctly, this kind of exchange would be the precursor to a possible romance in contemporary anime or drama—boy meets girl, and the latter demands something of the former... they get together more and more until they become close friends or even more.

And from that deduction, I would have just pulled free keep from her grasp, and disappear into the world... except doing that would never cleanse the mark atop my head. So, after a couple of seconds I settled on the epiphany that I would break all ties with her once I received my Green cursor once more.

With my mind screaming __no, no, no,__ I materialized my menu and accessed the «Communications» tab. There were five options total, but the first was the option I was looking for. At the very bottom of this sub-menu, there was a button that would only collect dust, and will never touched until the end of this death game, and even then, it will never be selected.

After selecting the «Befriend» option, a list of names manifested into being, beginning with Selphie's because she was the player closest to me in the «Communications» distance limit of twenty-five meters. I clicked that name, and my window shifted to my Friends List, and «Selphie» was listed as its fourth name. My heart sank as I beheld the two names that took the second and third positions.

"My name," I said, waving the window away as I began toward the entrance once more, "is «Kai». Pleased to make your acquaintance."

I didn't wait for her reply. My voice had never felt so heavy before.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: 1/25/15**

**Just going to throw it out there, I wrote out the first half of this chapter in the span of a month and a half (beginning at the posting of Chapter 3 back in late November), and the latter half was written in the remaining time until now (in the span of a week to a week-and-a-half). I haven't been very motivated to write, until I saw that someone had acquired interest in my story (shoutout, Tayuke), and decided that I should finish this chapter... at the very least.**

**I have posted my reasons on my profile page. While I don't have a lot of self-motivation to write, I don't plan on completely abandoning this project... _yet_.**

**I hope for your feedback and your blessings. Thank you for reading _The Rain in our Souls_.**

**—1caiser**


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